
Vladislav Surkov, the Kremlin’s controversial ideologue, once wrote that: modern politics no longer aims to convince people of one truth, but to expose them to so many versions of the truth that they are no longer able to distinguish one from the other. In his “managed democracy,” censorship was not the answer. The solution was abundant, contradictory, and incessant information, to the point where truth loses its superiority over perception.
In this virtual world, where attention to a fact barely survives thirty seconds, it is becoming increasingly difficult to distinguish between truth and what is only suspected, between fact and perception, between reality and virtuality. Of course, this is not an Albanian phenomenon. It is the time of social media. It is the time of information surplus.
Suspicion, in itself, does not constitute a problem. On the contrary. It is a democratic instrument. Without it, there would be no media, no protests, no opposition, no investigations. Every democratic movement began with someone who dared to doubt. A protest is launched because citizens suspect that an injustice is taking place. A journalist investigates because he suspects that someone is hiding the truth. A prosecutor launches an investigation because he suspects that a criminal offense has been committed. Suspicion is the way in which society controls power and demands answers from it. In itself, it is not the enemy of truth, but the point from which its search begins.
But the problem begins when doubt replaces truth. When the question turns into an answer. In a democratic society and a state governed by the rule of law, doubt first arises, then facts are sought, evidence is analyzed, and only finally is conviction formed. Today, more and more often, the opposite happens: first conviction is created and then there is a struggle to confirm it. The truth is no longer sought, but confirmation of what has been decided in advance to be believed.
It is precisely to avoid this inversion between reality and virtuality that institutions exist. In every society there are perceptions, emotions and narratives. The difference lies in the ability of states to build serious institutions, which are able to verify the facts and decide on them. The stronger and more reliable the institutions are, the clearer the boundary between the real and the virtual becomes.
The constant bombardment of information from social networks and the internet in everyone’s pocket has made this challenge even greater. Where institutions enjoy high public authority, adapt to the technological rhythms of society, and remain steadfast to the standards of justice, they manage to maintain the distinction between perception and reality. Where institutions are weak, archaic, populist, or do not enjoy the trust of citizens, perception begins to replace reality. Truth and justice lose ground, turning society into a massive “Big Brother,” where everyone cries out for the truth, but only tells the truth.
When this triumph of perception over fact spills over into justice, the situation becomes particularly dramatic. Justice is the last link in the state. It is the power that must impose itself on society with truths based on evidence and with high standards of due process. It is the power that must not produce political truths, confirm political truths, or enter political terrain, beyond proof and only proof obtained legally. It must not respond to expectations, but to evidence. If public perception is confirmed beyond proof and the legality of the process, it is a political confirmation, not a legal confirmation.
The modern form of political justice does not arise when the judge takes orders from a politician or from a political power. It arises when justice begins to formalize what society has already decided to consider true. When the mission takes the place of the standard. When the judge loses the coldness and blindness of Justicia and feels himself part of a cause, however just it may seem.
But when citizens lose faith even in justice as the final arbiter of legal truth, the boundary between the real and the virtual becomes increasingly blurred. When justice itself begins to seek confirmation of public expectations instead of rigorous verification of evidence, it no longer corrects this phenomenon. It feeds, legitimizes, and deepens it, making the distinction between perception and truth even more unclear. At this point, justice ceases to be the boundary that separates perception from truth and becomes part of the mechanism that confuses them.
The rule of law does not exist because society always reaches the truth. It exists because it refuses to declare as true what has not been proven.
Doubt is a criterion of freedom, but proof is a condition of justice.
When doubt triumphs over evidence, perception over fact, and belief over truth, the republic of the rule of law ceases to exist.
It has been converted into something else.
In the Republic of Doubt.